November Rain
by Anything but ordinary3
Summary: Jubilee tries to come to terms with her 'demons' by facing them head on. Will she finally accept the horrors of her past and the pain of loss? One shot-Slightly future setting


**Disclaimer: ****Nothing but the idea is mine and that's not even very original!**

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**A/N:**** I've finally finished this after nearly a solid month of doing it, which is a lot considering it's so short. I wrote the bones of the story in a few days however I have been agonising about this and that, and whether to post it ever since. I have neither written a 'properly' serious fanfic before nor written in this tense, so forgive me if it's crap. While constructive criticism is welcomed I would appreciate it if you didn't review if you just plain hated it, thanks! **

**Oh and yes my grammar is quite bad but that's because when I type I'm so swept along with what I am typing I put things in the wrong place or don't put them in at all, however I hope proof reading it 3 times has helped with that issue! **

**Oh and living in ****England**** we're quite behind in the comics (this months Colossus committed suicide) so if I have got an info wrong bear with me, I have gleaned most of this info from character bios and histories!**

_Anyway on with the story, hope you like and those of you who don't know me might be surprised when you find out who her guy is at the end! Sorry if you don't like this pairing but I do…and I have my reasons as well if you wanna know them say that in you review (hint hint) and I'll tell you!_

**_Oh and to clear up any confusion that may arise this is set in the future in a time where Jubilee has been to university (or college whatever you wanna call it) and come back to the X-men. If I had to pin down an age for her I would say about 22/23ish. Hope that clears that up if it wasn't clear before_******

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**November Rain.**

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The nights are the hardest, it's when I fall into myself and am confronted by my pain and my fears.

At college I wouldn't room with anyone, I would just have kept them awake with my whimpers of pain, my howls of terror; if only they had kept me awake too. Instead I remained, remain, trapped in this horror rerun, those moments from my past from which I can never escape.

He comes to me then, at the dead of night, on nights I do not expect, he makes me scream, he makes me bleed, he makes me cry. Too frightened to awaken in case nightmare becomes reality as it once did, yet knowing that there is worse to come.

Each night its like waiting for my death as sleep ebbs its way in, sometimes I escape but sometimes I do not, those times when I escape have practically become non-existent over the last few months, since I've returned. Most of the time I wake up, the need to be clean burning in my mind, to get rid of the grime, the filth, his fingerprints branded into my mind.

Tonight is going to be different altogether, for I shall not sleep, the bedside lamp and its warm glow will fight off the stark shadows of the night. However this little victory over them is hollow, as hollow as my being, for I know they will crawl out again and poison my once joyous dreams, that's why I am going to fight.

I gulp the lukewarm coffee from the thermos that is sat on my nightstand, praying that the caffeine will work its magic. I want to wait for dawn to break to save me from this fear; however I know what must be done.

I sit back against my pillows and think back to when my nightmares first began. I remember sitting on that icy cold cell floor waiting for my knight in shining armour to come and save me like he had so many times before…like he promised he always would. Sometime, crushed under the weight of hate and fear, I lost my faith in him and his Adamantium armour. I don't…didn't want to admit it but that was the moment when I lost my ability to believe, to have faith in others.

I get up and move over to the desk, more to get the blood flowing to my feet than anything else. I snap on the small reading lamp on there too, I'm drawn to look at my photos, my most treasured belongings, they are liberally scattered in brightly beaded frames, littering what may have once been a good work space. I suppose I hope these good memories of before will replace the newer raw memories. I don't have a photo out of after 'Operation: Zero Tolerance', because it's not really me in them, just a shell where my soul once was. There used to be nights when these photographs would fill my sleeping life. Dreams filled with Illyana, Mondo, Everett and Angelo, dreams that filled me full of heart-rending sorrow and sadness, as even in my dreamlike delirium I knew that I could neither bring them back nor could I go back. 

I mull over the thought; the impression of sadness filling my head for a while before coming to the conclusion it is dangerous, more dangerous than fear or hate which fuels revenge. Only revenge is useless to me, it is a violation of the rules I have been brought up on, rules I am reluctant to break in case I lose another part of me, a part more cherished than the last.

I smile and gently replace the photo into which I have been gazing at absent mindedly. As I glance a last time over my small collection of glossy memories, I wish silently that I could return back to those days, filled with hope of a better tomorrow, a tomorrow I have seen and wish to escape.

I can feel the strain inside of me as I struggle to maintain this numb feeling, I knew the emotions at coming to live back in the mansion would be strong as they fight to break free of the bond holding them in, and so they manifest into these nightmares, or at least have contributed to their increased frequency and ferocity. 

I bite my lip as I bang my shin on the green velvet ottoman which it is not my own, I know that I needn't worry about waking anyone with my pacing as I now sleep in a desolate area of the mansion, the less luxurious side, but I worry anyway. I take two steps over to the widow and place my palm on the cold reinforced glass, the slight condensation on the pane makes my hand damp, but I don't remove it. The condensation covers the glass in a glistening sheen that catches the light from my lamp, is it just me or do the droplets look like perspiration? Does this window feel my pain? 

'Its time' I decide before saying it out loud to the shadows. 'Time to face this once and for all' 

I clamber onto my bed and take up a meditative position as I try to empty my mind. If my theory is going to work my mind must be clear of the present, I must exist in the past alone.

Once this is achieved I push through the dense fog protecting those memories back to when my love and belief of others was used as a whip to snap at me. I can see the illusions of Wolverine; they haunt me as much as the physical torture ever does, as does the memory of the crucifixion on the front lawn, I can still taste my salty tears, smell the iron tang of blood and most of all I see the last rise and fall of Jesse Bedlams ribs and hear Angelo's last gasp of breath, and I wish it was me in his place. 

I decide that I can't take any more just yet, so I go back further right to the dark corners of my memory, back to when I lived in a perfect world, a world in which I was imperfect, tainted by 'impure genes'. Without my 'imperfection' I would not be here, my life would have been one of joy, love and forgiveness, instead of one full of pain, hate and regret. For a moment I am there, back when things seemed almost right despite my gift, my curse, unaware of the intense sufferings that anyone could feel, or the personal sacrifice endured by all of my team mates just for the 'Xavier dream'.

I wade through memories of joy as I get sucked down to my newer harsh memories like a man wearing iron boots in quick sand. I'm in my cell again, a rare moment snatched between the torture to think of anything but this life. It is here that I realised for the first time that there are shadows in the corners of every one's homes and whispers behind locked doors no matter how bright and serene the sun is outside, no matter whether you possess the X-gene or not. It had always been a thought of mine that humanity lived in peace while all of mutant kind was used as pawns in secret wars of power and politics. Bastion however, exposed me to the other side, I had always thought homo-sapiens were confused, that they needed showing which way was the right direction, now I know their darkest face. As I sit on the hard stone floor back in the cold cell I wish that we hadn't stopped Magnetos plan for human genocide, at least that way my friends would still be alive. I almost regret thinking this. 

I shiver in the cold of the cell as I take it slowly and accustom myself to my surroundings, knowing if I take it too fast before I'm ready to face him it could make it could make everything worse. I can smell the cell; it smells of urine and something else, almost like rotting flesh, I know if I turn around I will see a greasy patch on the wall where my head has lain against it. I can see every inch of it, the way it was when I was entombed in this prison waiting for a better tomorrow, even down to the odd brick in the wall on my left. 

I feel ready now, I will him through the door, I say everything I couldn't say at the time, I pummel him with my words. I want to make him pay, for the pain, the scars, the tears and all I have lost. I face him as I was too scared to before. However he doesn't even flinch, I hear his words, cold and icy, I see the steel in his eyes, I feel the static electricity around me, I hear it cracking and popping setting my hair on end, only its not static electricity, its hate I feel.

Before I know it I am running away from the hate, the vile words that tumble from his lips like water over the rim of a full glass. I thought I was ready to face him but I was wrong, I'm not as strong as I fooled myself I was. 

I scream at the top of my lungs, until I am swallowed up in the sound of it, I can't stop; I don't want to hear the words. I squeeze my eyes shut, causing my salty tears to spill over, I'm trying to rid myself of the image of Wolverine, hurt , needing me yet I'm unable to move. Then there's Angelo, mounted on his crucifix like a prize head from a hunting expedition, the pain in his eyes makes me want to run to him, help him, save him, but I'm immobilised by my fear. 

"Get out" I whisper before screaming into the wind "WHY ME? WHY CAN'T YOU LEAVE ME ALONE?"

I spin around in a circle, it is then I notice them, they are all here, Scott, Jean, Ororo, Remy…Hank. Have they come to help me be free? 

I drop to my knees, my hair clings to my wet face, was it my tears or the November rain that made it this way?

I look up at the shadow of myself as it sneers at my weakness. 

"Why do you want to hurt me?" I whisper to her

I break down and sob, clawing at my head to rid it of these images invading it. 

"Why when I'm read to be happy and move on with my life do you haunt me?" I plead climbing to my feet to meet the part of me that won't let go, that says I don't deserve to be happy, in the eye, chip of ice to deep haunted ocean.

"Jubilee!" I feel strong hands grip my shoulders and shake me but not violently.

I look at her shrinking slightly, not sure what this new game it is she's playing, but knowing the dark side of me as I now do, I know she is playing one.

"Jubilation!"

Images flash at me, there's a struggle as I grapple with my emotions and come to terms with my past.

"Goodbye" It is breathed into the wind.

I snap my eyes open, but the face I see isn't my own, or the shadow of me, I no longer feel the static or the numbness that I hadn't realised had become such a huge part of me. For the first time in what seems like a lifetime I feel emotions, and I think I like it, it makes me feel alive.

I look around me like a baby newborn, as I adjust to the transportation from the nightmare realm of my own creating to the mansions gardens. The rain sodden lawn has soaked my pyjama bottoms, making them cling to my lower legs, in the dark it looks like blood. But whose? Mine? Angelo's? 

I look up at the mansion, it's further away then I expected and closer too, its comfort within my grasp. I understand now why I have been plagued so. It's because I didn't want to come to terms with the past because that would have meant excepting it, what had happened and moving on with out those I have lost.

I get up shakily, the cold rain has made my hair wet, slicking it to my face, and has strewn the lawn with dark puddles. I wobble slightly as my heart rate slows from its panic and fear induced state.

"Jubilee what's wrong?" Concerned blue eyes peer into mine gently.

My throat is still raw from screaming, I moisten my tongue willing it to work.

"Are you alright?" He speaks before I can.

"I am now" My voice is hoarse

"What, may I enquire, are you doing out here?"

"Facing my demons" I attempt a poor substitute for a smile

"And? Have you frightened them away? You were screaming like a woman possessed." 

"Let's just say I'm no longer a face without a name."

"I'm not sure I understand"

"I'm Jubilation Lee" I say it with more conviction, more hope and more pride then I can remember. I am the person I was looking for; I have my identity back, my soul. I am no longer a victim.

I am startled to notice the sun has begun to rise and suddenly the puddles are no longer black with shadows and fear, they have been transformed, like a caterpillar coming out of its chrysalis, into beautiful mini lakes full of glorious life and ripples of hope. The heavy downpour is now a slight drizzle; a golden shower. I am unexpectedly struck by the beauty of the outside…and the inside? Well we'll wait and see shall we?

For no reason at all I begin to weep, maybe I was ready after all.

**Epilogue**

As I feel your strong arms wrap around me and pull me into a deep embrace against your broad chest I remember how it feels to trust, I lay my head against your shoulder and know that I have found my home.

As I stand here, the rain beating down on my skin, the cold air biting at my skin and tears slipping down my face like rivers long ago forgotten, I don't feel nothing but your hands rubbing circles in the small of my back, soothing me.

Darkness and hate shrouds the world around me in its dense cloak, my breath comes out in small puffs of cleansed white, but I don't care as I no longer fear, all I see is the love in your eyes, I cant tear myself away from them, I am drinking in your soul. I know you will catch me when I fall and love me when I hate. As I nestle deeper into your embrace I know now I am saved, safe, loved. 

"I love you Hank McCoy" It's murmured into your chest but I know you hear it as you hold me tighter and press a kiss onto my head.

Everything from my past is just that, in my past, history, with no place in tomorrow. For the first time I look to the future without worrying about getting hurt again.

I smile up at you and know tonight my slumber will be filled with dreams of tomorrow. Suddenly sleep is no longer frightening in this November rain.

**A/N Again: Ok I might do a sequel on Hanks view of all of this. Let me know what you think!**

**Also the epilogue is a bit out of place but I wrote it before I wrote the rest of the story and I thought it was a nice way to end the fic off!**

**All that's left is for you to review, I like reviews! **


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